


Power

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:24:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Power is always a matter of perspective.  Fic/art trade with Neonowls</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZoraSapphire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoraSapphire/gifts).



Power is an interesting concept.

Over the centuries, humans have developed the concept of power into something unfathomable, indefinable.  Inevitably, the perception of power is one based on perception.

  
For some power would be raw strength, be it magic or physical.

  
For others it would be the spoken word, the power to compel and inspire.

  
And then, of course, there were the more base, more crude aspects of power, where the line of who controlled who was so blurred that it was almost impossible to see.

  
Who held the power – the fucker or the fucked?

  
Why Anders was thinking all of this while sat astride Fenris he would never know.  It was a profound thought that happened during the slow seconds as he sank down on Fenris’ cock, his head thrown back and blonde hair spilling over his shoulders.  Fenris grunted underneath him and jerked slightly, his mouth set in a thin line (Anders swore that frown was practically a permanent feature) his hands going to Anders hips and gripping tightly.

  
Anders sighed in his satisfaction and smirked as he wriggled to get comfortable, relishing the waver of Fenris’ expression.  Fenris rarely let Anders take him – he had so many _issues,_ this beautiful, branded elf, and one of them was over power.  Control, he had to be in control, and being taken was a sign of submission, a sacrifice he was rarely wont to provide.

  
But sat astride him on his bed in his dilapidated mansion, Anders couldn’t help but mull over the question, coming to the conclusion that right now, even with Fenris’ firmly inside him and pressing against him perfectly, that it was he, the mage, the very sort of person that Fenris loathed to have power, who was in complete control of their situation.

  
The realisation was as heady a rush as the thrill he got from seeing Fenris’ tattoos ripple along with his muscles.

  
Underneath him, Fenris grit his teeth to stop himself from moaning, the feel of Anders, the weight above him and the heat around him more pleasurable than his pride wished him to admit.  His gripped Anders’ hips a little tighter and rolled his hips to try to encourage Anders to move.

  
Anders didn’t budge an inch.

  
Still smirking, Anders clenched his backside and relished the choked moan that rose unbidden from Fenris’ throat.

“Mage...” Fenris growled.

“ _Elf_ ,” Anders replied mockingly, enjoying Fenris’ scowl far too much given their current situation.

“You are in no position to tease,” Fenris said darkly.  Anders’ smirk didn’t waver.

“No?  I beg to differ.”  He repeated the motion, and Fenris growled again, long, lyrium branded hands digging into his hips.

  
“I’m warning you...”

“I’m not listening.”  Anders squeezed his muscles again and rocked his hips slightly, moaning happily as Fenris’ length shifted inside him.

  
However, it wasn’t the movement that Fenris was hoping for.

Still growling low in his throat, Fenris gripped Anders’ hips and held him still, raising his hips and forcibly lifting Anders from the bed.  Anders gasped and moaned, allowing Fenris a smirk of triumph, and the elf gave one short but hard thrust as if to remind Anders that he had the strength to take control of this back at any moment.

  
 _Bugger_.

Not quite wanting to be flipped over and fucked silly (though on occasion that wasn’t an unpleasant outcome to have), Anders relented, bracing a hand on Fenris’ branded chest and rising up and down, his gasps and moans growing with each bounce and rock.  Fenris rolled his hips in time, matching the rhythm that Anders was setting with ease, his noises of pleasure limited to more reserved and restrained grunts and pants.

  
Anders eventually abandoned all pretence of gaining and maintaining control, bouncing on Fenris with abandon, chasing his orgasm with little care for Fenris’ situation.  Judging from the heavy pants from his partner, Fenris wasn’t far off himself, so Anders didn’t need to worry about helping the elf reach the brink.

  
Taking himself in hand, Anders stroked himself in time with his rocks, his gaze meeting Fenris’ and a triumphant grin spreading on his face as he saw Fenris’ eyes narrow and darken in reaction to the sharp rise in his lust.  Fenris bucked sharply, eking an unbidden moan from Anders and causing the mage to pitch forward, moving his hand from Fenris’ chest to the bed, each bounce accompanied by a wet pant.

  
His orgasm crashed over him like a clap of thunder, ribbons of white joining the lines of the brands on Fenris’ stomach.  Fenris came shortly after with a hoarse groan that he failed to bite back, and Anders couldn’t help the smug chuckle that  bubbled up as he rolled off Fenris and flopped beside him.  He reached across to the bedroom table and tossed a damp cloth on Fenris’ stomach and then lay back on the pillow with a sigh as he caught his breath.

Fenris gave Anders a sidelong glare as he wiped his stomach and tossed the the cloth right back at Anders as a way to show his irritation.  “Are you quite satisfied, mage?”

Anders hummed in reply and lazily threw the cloth back onto the side table.  “Much,” he said sleepily.  “My thanks,” he added cheekily with a slight tinge of sarcasm.

  
Fenris grunted.  “Don’t get too comfortable,” he said grumpily as he reached down to pull the cover up over them.  “Hawke will be over in the morning for our trip to Sundermount.  You will need to return to your clinic.”

  
Anders’ reply was a murmured and slurred version of “I know” and before long he had succumbed to sleep, his breathing deep and even.  Fenris let out an exasperated sigh and rolled onto his side, still unused to sleeping on a bed but the warmth of the mage next to him was too much of a temptation.

He glared into the darkness of the room.  The mage had more power over him that he liked to admit.  He had to do something about this and soon before it got any worse.

He had been powerless at the whim of a mage before.  He wouldn’t let it happen again.


End file.
